“I want,” she continued, “to ask you a question which means much to me. Is it, or is it not, one of Captain Melun's conditions that you shall marry him before he returns your father's secret?” “Yes,” answered Kathleen, very quietly, “it is.” Madame's rather flushed face grew white, and her eyes blazed with passion. She clenched her fists and beat the air with them. “Oh, the liar!” she cried, “the liar! Oh! it is hard to be treated like this when I have done so much for him.” Kathleen drew back, startled and amazed. “I assure you that you need have no fear so far as I am concerned. Both my father and myself have refused to comply with that condition, and we shall refuse to the end.” Madame, however, paid but little heed to Kathleen; she was beside herself with rage. “Ah, ah!” she cried, “wait till he returns! I'll kill him! I'll kill him!” So distorted with fury was the woman's face that Kathleen became alarmed for her sanity. She drew near to her and endeavoured to catch her hands in her own, imploring her to be calm. By-and-by Mme. Estelle listened to her, and in a sudden revulsion of feeling fell on her knees, sobbing bitterly. Kathleen bent over her, doing her best to console her, and presently, as the woman grew calmer, she endeavoured to turn the situation to her own and her father's advantage. “The best way to defeat Captain Melun's scheme, so far as I am concerned,” she urged, “is to release me.” But at that Mme. Estelle leaped to her feet again and her face was hideous in its cunning. “Ah! not that,” she cried, “not that! If I distrust him, I distrust you still more. Your pretty face may look sad and sorrowful, and you may declare to me that you will never consent; but I will wait and see. I'll wait until Melun returns and confront you with him. Then perhaps I shall learn the real truth.” Kathleen made a little despairing gesture with her hands; argument, she saw, would be useless. Gathering herself together, Madame blundered, half blind with tears, out of the room, and Kathleen with a sinking heart heard the bolts drawn again. All through the day Madame sat brooding, sending Kathleen's lunch and tea up to her by Crow. All the evening she still sat and brooded, until as eleven o'clock drew near and there were still no signs of the captain she had worked herself up into a hysteria of rage. Twelve o'clock struck, and still the captain was absent. Another half-hour dragged slowly by, and then she heard his car grating its way up the hill-side. She was at the door to meet him, and would have plunged straightway into the matter which absorbed her but for the sight of his face. It was haggard and pale as death. His eyes were blazing in their sockets, and his straggling hair lent him altogether a distraught and terrifying aspect. “Melun!” cried the woman, stretching out her hand, “what is it?” “I don't know,” he said hoarsely; “I wish I did, but the Premier's gone.” “Gone! What do you mean?”